


Istanbul scenes

by damageditem



Category: Can Yaman, Erkenci Kuş (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 02:16:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16714648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damageditem/pseuds/damageditem
Summary: This story is based on the Turkish series Erkenci Kuş, and is written from Can's point of view. Some scenes will follow the actual show, but others may change.





	Istanbul scenes

It should be easy. It had always been. When everything started to feel stagnant, the easiest thing for Can was to book a flight and leave. Anywhere. He didn't need many things, just his camera, and the stones, the things he always carried with him. Anything else was dispensable and he could get it anywhere. 

And yet, today, parked at the airport entrance as he stared at the piece of paper that once more would bring him far away, he didn't feel that familiar flicker of excitement before a new adventure. Instead, a dull pressure in the middle of his chest constricted his ribcage, turning every breath into a struggle, and his heart was beating hard enough to jump out of his chest. 

He should be boarding that plane. Cambodia had felt like a good idea yesterday, far enough from everything. Today it was too far away from her, though. Images of Sanem asking him if he truly had to leave haunted him since he had driven her home from the abandoned warehouse. Gosh, had it been only two hours since he had told her goodbye for the last time? It felt like an eternity since a teary-eyed Sanem had waved him goodbye from her door. Those tears she tried to hide were driving him crazy. Why was she crying? Did she want him to stay? What for? So he could see her happy with her fiancé while he goes crazy with the need to touch her whenever she's around? That'd be too hard a punishment for loving her. He wasn't sure he could endure such torture, but he can't seem to be able to be physically apart from her without pain either. It was driving him crazy.

He needed her scent like air, and her touch… Nobody's touch had ever make him feel like Sanem did. He will never forget that day at the camp, when, blindfolded, she tried to recognize him with just her hands. The delicate caress of her fingertips over his face was both the best and the worst kind of torture he'd ever endured, and he was still paying for the effort that took him to control himself. Having a hard-on in front of her fiancé and half of his employees was not a good idea, after all. But to this day, he could not erase it from hits mind. Whenever he closed his eyes he could feel again the warmth of her hands over his skin, the overwhelming need to lean into her touch, wrap her into his arms and kiss her until she forgot everything but his name. But he couldn't do that, could he? Because she wasn't his. She was someone else's love, someone else's happiness, someone else's life. And as much as it hurt, he had to respect that.

With a frustrated groan, he tried to get rid of the anguish repeatedly hitting the steering wheel, but the only thing he got from it was a stinging pain in his already injured hand. Great. As if he wasn't hurting enough. With a resigned sigh, he took a look at the car clock and grabbed the boarding pass. Cambodia. Sanem. Freedom. Unrequited love. Solitude. Sanem. Sanem. Sanem. And at that moment, he knew what he had to do. Tearing the paper into pieces, he started the car and drove home. Even if it caused him physical pain to be near her, he could never leave Istanbul while Sanem was there. Besides, she said she would leave her job, didn't she? He would drown his feelings into his work and that'd keep his thoughts away from her. Or so he hoped.

Having made a decision, he drove home in a state of calm he hadn't felt for weeks. He could do this. He was Can Divit, and this unrequited love was not going to defeat him. Sanem had his heart in her hands, but he could only hope she would not crush it.

As soon as he parked his car, he took the pieces of the boarding pass and threw them into the trash bin. He opened the door, craving for a drink and froze, wondering if the scene displayed in front of him was a bad joke or a nightmare. Maybe both. He blinked once, twice, thrice, but nothing changed. There was Polen, shaking hands with Sanem.

Polen.

And Sanem.

Sanem.

She should have been home, where he had left her a couple of hours ago. But she was here, in front of him again, asking him if he hadn't left. He was so stunned that for a moment, he had forgotten he had been about to board a plane to Cambodia to run away from her. What a ludicrous idea it seemed now that she was here again.

Like a magnet, his body instinctively moved towards Sanem. He just needed to touch her to be sure she was really there. But his slow, clumsy move was interrupted by Polen. She wrapped herself around him and he heard her saying something about a surprise and being unable to resist something. Nevermind. He didn't care. Not anymore. Now that he had felt Sanem’s hugs, he knew that whatever he had been doing before was just searching for her. He had known for sometime that his relationship with Polen was just a habit, a convenient way for both of them of killing loneliness when it became overwhelming. But now, having Polen between his arms, feeling numb while his heart was skipping beats with every blink from Sanem’s eyes, he knew without a doubt that nothing but that crazy, stubborn woman could ever do for him. It was her. Only her.

And now, before he could understand what was happening, she wanted to leave again. He hurriedly disentangled himself from Polen’s embrace and tried to prevent Sanem from running away.

“Why did you come, Sanem?”

For a fleeting instant he hoped she'd say that she had changed her mind, that she chose him, that she felt the same way he did. But that hope died soon, though.

“Nothing. It was about work, but it's not important” she said, uncomfortable.

Can wanted to shake her, to let her know he didn't believe her; to tell her that nothing related to work would make her search for him this late after their last conversation; to tell her to stop driving him crazy; to tell her to have mercy on him. But he couldn't. Polen started talking again about how they had been bonding while he wasn't home. What a nightmare. Right now he just wanted Polen gone, so he could talk with Sanem, but she was waving Sanem goodbye. As she hurried towards the door, he followed her. Why was she always running away from him? It was exhausting!

“Sanem, wait! Sanem! Sanem!” He called her again and again, but she didn't stop. “Sanem, wait. I don't want to be running after you calling your name. Please.”

She finally stopped, and turning towards him, she just said “yes, Can bey?”

Can bey. Damned Can bey. Everyday he hated it more and more. Would there be a day when she'd call him just Can?

He could feel her uneasiness, as she wasn't even able to meet his eyes.

“What happened? Why did you come?” He would insist until he got an answer from her.

“I already told you. It was about work, but it doesn't matter now, it's not important.”

He promised himself that his stubborn woman was not going to leave without giving an explanation. Nothing she was saying made any sense to him.

“Well, if it's not important, I want to know the reason why you came all the way here. Can you tell me?”

He could feel her closing up again. That small flicker of hope he had seen in her eyes when he opened the door was now gone. In its place, a cold, angry stare confronted him. Can needed to bring his favourite Sanem back, the one with the wide smile and bright eyes, the one that made him feel alive. He didn't like this version of Sanem, sad, pained, angry… He extended his hand to grab hers between his fingers, ignoring the sting in his injured palm. Just the tiniest contact with her skin had the power to give him calm, and make everything alright again. The rest of the world didn't matter when she was with him. Why couldn't she feel it?

Closing the short distance between them, he fought the need to cradle his face into her neck, to inhale her sweet flowery scent and love her until she'd feel the same for him. Before he could comprehend what he was doing, he had raised his right hand and was cupping her face gingerly, as if she could break with a careless touch. He leaned forward until his forehead was touching hers, and he tried to revel into the feeling for as long as he could. How he'd like to spend the rest of his life like this!

“Sanem, please.” His voice was barely a whisper, and she was so close to him that he could feel her body shuddering next to his. “I need to know why you've come here tonight. You told me you’d leave your job. Have you changed your mind?” Can felt, more than heard, the little gasping sound that came from her. Reluctantly, he leaned back, instantly regretting the lack of contact with her, but he needed to look into her eyes to understand what was going inside her mind. He could see a thousand excuses crossing her mind, and he knew that, if he let her, she'd find a crazy excuse that'd keep her away from him again. Holding her face between his two hands, he asked her again. “Sanem? Don't do this. Talk to me. Please.”

She was breathing harder now, and for a tiny instant, he felt her leaning into his touch as she let go a little moan. Immediately she tensed and her face showed that cold mask again.

“Sanem?”

“Can bey. Even if I wanted to tell you, this is not the right moment. Ms Polen is here, and she even cooked for you. You should go back to her.”

How could he make her understand that he didn't care for Polen, that he had never wanted her gone more than now in all his life?

“Sanem, I didn't know Polen would come. It's been a surprise. I had no idea.”

“A surprise? It was a surprise for me too. We met at the door, we stared for a while and we introduced ourselves.”

Can looked at her, and found her eyes tearing up and a pained expression crossing her beautiful face. He wanted to comfort her, to ease whatever was troubling her, but he needed her to trust him, and every time she seemed to be near to confide in him, she closed up again.

“Sanem, are you alright?” As soon as he saw her face, he knew it had been a mistake.

“Am I alright? Can bey, you keep asking me if I'm alright.” She was getting louder and angrier. “Maybe I'm alright. Maybe everything is alright. Maybe everything is as it should be, Can bey!” Those were her last words before leaving. Again.

“We will talk!” he shouted at her, frustrated, though he wasn't sure if she had heard him. She was already gone. And now, instead of being alone with his thoughts and a glass of whiskey or two, he had to go inside again and deal with Polen. She had been good for him for a long time, but now it wasn't enough, and she deserved to know it first hand, not through a cold phone call. He stood there for some time, staring at the door Sanem had closed moments ago, as if he could conjure her back again. Then, frustrated and resigned, he went inside.


End file.
